


Jacob Frye [40] x Reader - The Wet Nurse

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Childhood, Desk Sex, Doggy Style, F/M, NSFW, Nursing, Nursing Kink, Parenthood, Single Parents, Vaginal Sex, Victorian, Wet Nurse, infant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 05:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: Jacob is left with his newborn daughter from a prostitute he had a tryst with. Hiring a wet nurse to aid in tending to his child so he can remain with the Creed, she is left trying to care for his infant and be attentive to Jacob’s needs.





	Jacob Frye [40] x Reader - The Wet Nurse

**Author's Note:**

> {IMPORTANT: I am afraid that no more Jacob Frye/Assassin's Creed works will come from me having been harassed out of the fandom for nearly half a year. I've lost my drive and passion for it entirely, but I appreciate the support and love that has come from some of my readers. <3 Thank you all for the fun times, but because of the death threats and other absurd comments thrown my way via Tumblr, I'd rather forget about this fandom entirely. Do not expect anymore updates of these stories.}
> 
> I hope this reads better than I planned. I've had a rough last few days and being inspired has been rough. Forgive me if it's not the best. Much love for your reading it~.
> 
> Like my content? Shoot me a donation on Ko-Fi~! Every little bit keeps me freed up to produce more! https://ko-fi.com/A4381WZM

You lost your husband nearly a year ago, and all you had was the legacy he had left behind—a daughter that was only a few weeks old now and struggling to survive as you were in the horrible conditions of Victorian London. While your former husband was well off for himself (thus your betrothal to him) he hadn’t bothered to leave much in your name to which caused your living conditions to slowly crumble during and after your pregnancy. 

Any work for you to do felt out of the question with a newborn baby suckling in your arms, but unless you wanted to live on the streets, nursing your infant while begging for money, you had to find someway to pay for a roof over your head. 

It was there you took to Lambeth with what coin you had on you, hurrying through the smog coated streets and the chill of the city to hurry to its hospital. With your current state, there was only one job you would be able to do and that was to become a wet nurse. If found by the right employer, you could live well off and at least have a home and enough money to live on your own after the child of your employer had been weaned. 

With your daughter in your arms, you nearly struggled to move the large, ornate doors open at first until a nurse soon came upon you to aid in your effort and escort you inward. The smell within the hospital itself was potent and made you cringe at the mixed odor of vile bodily fluids and cleaning materials you were not used to. Your daughter, Eliza, seemed to not enjoy it either as her fussy cries were heard rumbling upon your shoulder where she attempted to find rest. 

The woman who had aided you knew you were there for work given the disheveled look upon you, perhaps. Her eyes were narrow and almost appeared condescending to your presence. Her hands clasped before her gown, she appeared to glide across the wooden flooring to the desk she worked upon from time to time. “And what brings you here, Ms…?” The nurse paused in searching for your name, a thin, black brow raised in curiosity. 

“Just call me (Y/N),” you urged, rubbing Eliza’s back and shushing her in a tender, motherly fashion. As the infant continued to squirm in discomfort, you placed a kiss upon her head though moving the fabric she was swaddled in to be sure no illness could reach her in such a place. “We’ll be home soon, sweetheart.” 

“Alright then, Ms. (Y/N),” the nurse continued, stopping at the desk and turning to address you further, “I am to assume you’re here for a job position of sorts unless you or that infant of yours is actually ill?” 

“A job,” you quickly corrected, rubbing the back of Eliza calmingly still. “I wish to place my name and information down for a wet nurse position.” 

“Your husband is alright with this?” the nurse went onward to pry, motioning for you to sit down as she offered you a pen and a simple document she could pin upon the hospital board for incoming fathers and or mothers looking for an available wet nurse applicant. 

You cringed at the thought. Your husband wasn’t a great or attentive lover, but he did give you Eliza, and he gave you far better living conditions for yourself and your family. “He’s…he passed away nearly a year ago…” Not wanting to dwell on the topic, you quickly put the pen to use, scribbling down your information that was requested. 

The nurse’s face relaxed then, arms folded behind her back as she expressed her sympathy within her young features. “My apologies,” she murmured. “I suppose that explains why you’re here.” 

“It does.” You wanted your responses simple. Again, your husband wasn’t wonderful, but what he left behind was still damning to your heart. 

“And you are to realize that upon finishing this application, the man or woman who chooses you as a wet nurse may request you to live at their home till the child no longer needs to be nursed?” The medical attendant reminded you, letting you fill out the last line on the document you were handed. 

“I am prepared for such a request,” you whispered, shushing the fussy Eliza once more before finalizing the deed with your signature and moving the pen and paper away from you. 

She slipped her hand upon the papers then, being a lot more courteous than before when it came to your presence and situation that brought you here (perhaps thinking Eliza was an illegitimate child prior). “Alright, Ms. (Y/N), I will put this upon the board at once, and we will send a letter to you when a request for you comes in.” 

Cradling the rump of your baby girl, you rocked her still with a relieved look to the nurse you never had the chance to get the name of. “Thank you ever so much. I greatly appreciate this…” 

Eliza’s crying getting a bit louder, you hurried from the hospital in hopes the air of London would do her a bit better than the odors about the Lambeth hospital. The child was still a bit distraught and the only two things that came to mind was the idea she needed to rest or to nurse. Sadly, both would have to wait till you were back home in Southwark. 

 

 

It was quite a ride back to your home, but the carriage ride was quiet and indeed smooth to the point you were able to feed your baby at the very least and quiet Eliza before exiting the carriage, thanking the driver, and hurrying to, what was now, your small little home. In truth, the building was near falling apart in your eyes. With what little money you had been bequeathed by your late husband, all you could afford was a small location with one bedroom where the roof leaked in several places whenever it rained. 

A part of you prayed that by the time Eliza was older you would have made the living situation better for her. The last thing you wanted was your child to be forced to share a room with you till she was married off to some other man. 

But would that be what you’d do? Would you have to be in such a horrible living condition that you’d have to put her on the market for some rich man to promise to take care of her and, in turn, give you money to survive as your parents had you? 

Brow winkled in dismay at the thought, you gazed down at Eliza who had fallen asleep in your arms there in the small living room. Life certainly didn’t come with any manual in taking care of your child, but it seemed most of those instincts kicked in automatically when you held your baby in your arms for the first time. While rotting in the streets of London was a far from pleasant thought, you would prefer that anytime over the idea of sacrificing your daughter’s happiness. 

Your index finger nudged its way into your infant’s hand, letting the small and weak grasp touch upon it as she slumbered peacefully still. A smile tugged at the edges of your lips. “At least I have you in this cold, cruel world…” Moving downward, you placed a kiss upon her forehead before reclining back in the old sofa you had. All you could do was pray that things would get better for the both of you in time.

 

\--

 

The weeks were still a countless struggle. Day in and day out, you waited impatiently for that letter to be sent in regards to someone requiring a wet nurse, but none came…until finally one evening one letter did arrive from the Lambeth hospital requesting your arrival tomorrow promptly. 

“So early,” you whispered, but felt your body quiver in excitement and hope that your job had been found. “I guess whoever this woman or man is that needs me must leave early…?” The letter had very little answers—merely left more questions than anything as all it had was a simple request of your presence at six in the morning to meet and talk with your benefactor. 

Regardless, you made sure that you and Eliza were asleep early and all of your belongings you would need in this transition to a new home were all packed and ready for the untimely departure the next day. Upon your early rise, you found Eliza was fast asleep and hardly stirred from your picking her up. You felt a bit of relief in that, grabbing your belongings and hurrying out to the carriage waiting on you, to make your way off to the Lambeth hospital as intended. 

The unwelcomed smells assaulting your nose once more, you prayed it would bring little attention to your baby as the main hall opened up before you to reveal a few doctors in passing, the nurse you met weeks ago, and some…man…? You couldn’t make him out completely as his back was turned to you, but you assumed he was the one that had requested your presence as he was talking to the nurse you found out was named Mary through the letter sent. 

You could tell the man wasn’t a patient there as he was wearing intricate clothing, but upon getting closer, the reveal of him became known as he soon turned to greet you when Mary saw you approaching in time. 

“Ah, there she is,” Mary began, motioning for the man to turn around as she shifted eye contact from you back to him. “Sir Frye, this is (Y/N)—the woman you requested.” 

Hearing the name and soon seeing the 40-year-old’s face, you nearly paused in your steps in a mixture of fear and honor. When he came towards you to meet you halfway, you took a shaky inhale before dropping your luggage and offering your hand to his. “It…It’s an honor, Sir Jacob Frye,” you expressed meekly, hardly having the courage to look him in the eyes. 

Everybody by now knew the infamous Frye twins, knighted by Queen Victoria herself, and while you hoped for good tidings for your child and you, you were hardly expecting them to be answered in the form of Sir Jacob Frye. 

“Charmed, I am sure,” expressed Jacob, his voice weary and yet delicate at the same time when he spoke, accepting your hand. “Forgive me for asking you here so early.” 

“That was your doing?” you boldly questioned, finding the courage then to look upon him. 

“Indeed,” he sighed, his hazel eyes drifting then to your daughter who remained asleep. “I live in Whitechapel, you see, and I require you there as soon as possible. I knew you had a young one of your own, so I was trying to be mindful of all factors involved.” It was there Jacob bent down to grab up your luggage to be generous. “If you please, I can discuss everything on the way there.” 

He motioned towards the front doors as a means to head out as soon as possible, causing you to follow as instructed while hoping that all paperwork was out of the way if there was any to be had. You were at a loss for words of the situation when you found yourself in a new carriage that Jacob had arrived in, driven by two Rooks. Sitting down with Eliza close to your breasts, you let Jacob handle the luggage as he desired to before he joined you on the opposite side of where you sat. 

The cushions of the carriage were comfortable, lined in red velvet with a rose decoration hanging in a vase upon the sides of the passenger seats. Quite classy, but you expected no less given the man’s title. You assumed everything with him would be so, not knowing his true personality—only his title. 

The carriage jerked suddenly and with a few muffled clicks of the driver to entice the horses, you found yourself on your way to Whitechapel. “That was all you had with you, Ms. (Y/N)?” Jacob asked curiously. 

“You’re fine to call me (Y/N), Sir Frye, if it’s alright with you,” you insisted, rocking Eliza as you heard her coo softly in her sleep. “And…yes…that was indeed all I had that I really required.” 

His hands shrugged upon his knees as if to mutely say ‘if you insist’. Perhaps he didn’t say you could call him Jacob given the circumstances of your relationship. “Again, forgive the urgency, (Y/N).” Jacob leaned forwards on his knees then, clasping his hands together as he took to your gaze. “You see…I only had one child till my wife passed away from consumption and for the rest of my years, I spent it teaching that lad how to be a man.” 

You nodded in understanding, rocking Eliza still as her cooing was becoming a bit louder to indicate she was waking up from the rocking of the carriage. 

Jacob’s eyes looked down at Eliza then, a smile that was ever so brief made its appearance before it disappeared again into a neutral frown. “A father teaching a boy how to be a man is one thing…a father, wifeless, teaching a little girl how to be a woman is something different.” He bowed his head and tried to find humor in the thought. “I am sure I would cut her hair and try to lie to her about her gender—tell her she was just a lad and raise her as one.” Jacob straightened up, clearing his throat. “The truth is, (Y/N), while I could send her off to my twin sister, Evie, my daughter is my responsibility seeing as I was careless in getting a prostitute pregnant.” 

What a man did with his body was none of your business, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief that he was willing to accept the consequences of his actions where other men would have just dumped the baby somewhere to die or dropped her off at an orphanage, washing their hands of the mess. “The prostitute you slept with had no desire to come forward?” you asked curiously. 

Jacob raised his brow as if to shrug, the corner of his mouth dipping downward in thought. “I know who she was, but she wanted the daughter safe and in my care.” He laughed to himself, rather bitterly in an odd sense, but you assumed it was because he was a warrior of some sort for the Queen’s court and his life was probably anything but safe and quiet. “I was disrupted from my studies when I heard a knock on the door, opened it to find her there—my little girl—resting in a basket with a letter from the mum telling me she was mine, and she couldn’t afford to take care of her.” 

The conversation was halted for a moment as the carriage suddenly jolted rather roughly as if something had near hit it from the right side. A gasp of fright escaping your lips, your embrace upon your baby only tightened in fear of her being harmed upon being jerked to the side and near forward into Jacob’s arms, causing Eliza to start crying. 

Jacob was quick to react, grabbing at your shoulders to steady you and his body nearly curled upon you both as if to protect you as well, not wanting you or your babe to hit the opposite wall of the carriage. “Oi!” Jacob called out over the crying child, beating his fist against the back wall of the carriage where the drivers were. “What is wrong with you lot! There is a baby back here!” 

Looking down at the distraught Eliza as Jacob cursed at the Rooks, you shushed her gently and tried everything you were able to settle her only to find she was quite upset from the disruptive way she was woken. “It’s okay, little one.” Your words and your kisses did little to settle her, and it was there you realized she may very well be hungry. 

“Is she alright?” Jacob asked, turning his attention to you then when he realized the slip up of the carriage was merely that. 

“I may have to feed her, Sir Frye,” you spoke nervously as even just exposing an ankle to a man that wasn’t your husband was scandalous. To expose one’s breast was far worse and just as embarrassing given how society made you feel. 

Jacob removed his trench coat in that moment. “Time is of the essence, (Y/N),” he reminded you, spreading out the fabric facing you before draping it over where the child was and letting it hang off of your right shoulder to conceal the weeping babe and your need to expose yourself. “Otherwise, I would stop the carriage and let you nurse in peace.” 

All the same, you blushed at the idea of undressing partially with a man nearby. “Mind I ask if you glance away, perhaps?” Your words were soft and worried of stepping out of their boundaries of your position in his care now. “I just…I never had to feed her in public, let alone before a man I do not know well.” 

“Understood,” spoke Jacob, lowering his head then to stare at the floor, legs apart and hands clasped between his knees. 

Moving the heavy fabric of the coat the man wore a bit more from your child, you worked on loosening your own clothing to allow Eliza a means to feed. Granting yourself some relief that it was indeed the problem, you fixed the coat once more to where it would conceal your child and you a bit. The fabric was warm on the inside as well as tougher than any material you knew of for such fine clothing. Was it meant to be a sort of suit of armor? You couldn’t tell, really, but it was warm and the warmth seemed to comfort baby Eliza as well as yourself a bit. 

Closing your eyes, hoping to find your courage, you finally spoke to the knight of Queen Victoria. “You may look now.” 

Jacob raised his head in a cautious manner, looking to your eyes to prevent yourself from being further embarrassed by the situation at hand. For some reason, the look in his aged eyes did little to settle you. If anything, it made your heart beat faster in a mixture of emotions. 

“As I was saying,” Jacob began, clearing his throat as the situation made him uncomfortable as well, doing everything he could not to gaze upon your chest even if remained clothed behind his coat. “I know little of raising little girls into women, so I was hoping that is where you would also step in for a time being.” 

“Raise your daughter for you?” you asked curiously as that would mean you would have to stay with Jacob Frye and his daughter till the child was wed off. “But I merely was hired on as a wet nurse, Sir Frye…or so I thought?” 

Jacob raised his hands to calm your risen curiosity. “My money can hold you for years, (Y/N),” Jacob explained with a simple gesture to the offer. “I moved locations to where there’s space for everyone—your daughter included. Yes, you will be Gabriella’s wet nurse, but you will also be her nanny should you so desire to be after she is past the stages of her life needing to feed from you.” 

Gabriella? You could only assume that was his daughter’s name as you hadn’t heard it before. Eyes shifting down to Eliza, you adoringly stroked her head as she continued to nurse thinking of what would be best. You could stay with Jacob Frye for three or so years and then leave to have the conditions crumble in time again, or you could stay with him for several more to where you wouldn’t have to worry of such possibilities and even marry off Eliza in the process to a man worthy of her. 

“Truthfully, Sir Frye, I am not really leaving anything of importance behind me,” you spoke somberly. “I would…I would be honored to do so for you.” 

“Then it is settled,” said the knight of the queen, reclining back with one leg crossing over the other. “When we get home, I will show you Gabriella and your room.” 

 

 

 

It was nearly nightfall by the time you arrived in Whitechapel at Jacob’s lodgings. The street was like any other. It wasn’t fancy and the exterior of the building hardly said much in terms of the man’s title. It confused you, but at the same time, it was a lot bigger and not nearly as in shambles as your old home was. 

Jacob motioned to the Rooks nearby and asked them to bring in your belongings in yours and his place. You watched the men garbed in green and yellow hurry to do so, making you curious. You knew of the Rooks and the Blighters but only that they were some gang at war with one another. 

“I guess the Rooks are under Queen Victoria’s control?” you asked, taking to the steps cautiously and then to the front door under Jacob’s escort. 

“Only mine, (Y/N),” Jacob corrected, letting you into the main foyer as the two men headed off to the nearby stairs and onward to the room Jacob had instructed they go to place your baggage. “The queen knows not of my dealings with the Rooks, but they are indeed my gang that I assembled when I was a lad.” Loosening his tie, he placed his hand upon your back to accompany you onwards down the small corridor just to the right of the staircase and to the door on the left side of the hall. 

Jacob was quiet and cautious in opening it as it was a very small room with only a few simple toys and a crib inside. The space appeared cramped for a young child, but this had to be Gabriella’s room given the appearance of it. Indeed, as your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, you saw a female Rook standing there with the slumbering child in her arms. 

“Brilliant,” she breathed in relief, continuing to rock the infant in her embrace, “I was wondering when you’d be back!” 

“Give you much trouble, did she?” Jacob asked, a bit of joke hiding in those words as he took his daughter from the woman. 

“Not much for a bit, but she had been crying so much for awhile there and would not stop. Nothing seemed to sate her, really.” The woman’s brow wrinkled in concern, watching as her boss held his child. “The young one fell right asleep from mere exhaustion, that she did.” 

“She may very well be hungry,” you said to extinguish Jacob’s fright over the idea. “I can feed her, Sir Frye.” 

“Gabby’s not eaten well in some days now, (Y/N); thus, why I required you here ever so urgently,” fretted the man with a heavy sigh. “If you’d be so kind as to see if that may help? I would be grateful!” 

Taking quickly to the nearby rocking chair, you allowed your other arm to be available for Gabriella to rest opposite Eliza. Jacob motioned to the female Rook and made her leave the scene for you to be in peace, exposing your breast to the tired child. 

The infant was so small, you could only guess why that was so—if it was based on age or the fact she wasn’t eating well or a combination of the two. Her eyes weren’t open yet, so what her eye color was, you couldn’t say, but she had hair as brown as Jacob’s, it seemed. The little one moved ever so slightly in your arms when she felt the warmth of your breast upon her. 

“Come on, Gabriella,” you coaxed gently, rubbing her cheek with your index finger to show you meant no harm to her. Inwardly, you prayed she would take to it. If she didn’t, what good would you be to Jacob or to this newborn? If the baby didn’t feed soon, she could very well die from hunger and that frightened you as much as it did her own father. 

Relief. 

Gabriella’s mouth soon enclosed upon your breast and began to suckle warmly there in the dim light of the room. Eliza was awake and watched only with curiosity to fuel her as she was far too young to understand what was going on. But there in that moment, it made you curious how you should explain to your own daughter who Gabriella was. She wasn’t exactly yours, but Jacob was hoping you’d raise her as such. 

“Perhaps that will be something to ask him later on,” you whispered to yourself. 

After Gabriella had been fed and tended to for a bit, you placed her back down into her crib as the child was still tired from all her sobbing earlier and needing to digest. Moving the stuffed horse in the bed closer to her before covering her up, you silently moved out of the bedroom and into the nearby hallway where Jacob was waiting. 

“Well?” Jacob asked impatiently, his back against the wall with his arms crossed upon his chest. “Did she eat?” 

Making sure the door was at least opened a little bit in case she began to cry, you turned and smiled to the worried man. “She did indeed. You can put your worries to the side for now, Sir Frye.” 

Jacob breathed out slowly, letting his concern leave him. “For now?” he parroted with a small laugh. “You mean until she gets interested in boys, and I start to go mad wondering which will be best for her?” 

“Let us be honest, Sir Frye,” you chuckled, rubbing Eliza’s back, “would any lad out there be worthy of your little girl?” 

Jacob waved for you to follow him and it was there he scoffed teasingly at the thought. “Of course not, but by the time she tries to marry, I’ll probably be in a wheelchair or with a cane, too old to really chase after or threaten anybody anyways.” 

Your feet took you towards the stairs, up to the second floor and down the hallway to the right. “You’re not that old, Sir Frye.” Eyes shifting back and forth curiously, you noticed the hallway you were in had two doors on either side of the corridor and you just passed one on the way there that was the bathroom. 

“I appreciate that, but society and my own body would tell me otherwise,” he said with a weary smile, opening the door to the room on the left first to let you visually see what was inside. 

It was a decent sized room with two small cribs beside one another near the center with a chest at the foot of them (possibly a place to keep toys). The red curtains were draped over the windows upon the right of the room, only allowing the light of the wall lamps to illuminate the otherwise dark space. There were a few dresser drawers, a closet, and a vanity as well. In the end, it looked like a room for two children, but you were still confused as Gabriella was downstairs, or so you assumed. 

“This will be Gabriella’s and Eliza’s room,” Jacob explained, letting you venture within it to be sure it was to your liking and not just his own. “I kept Gabriella downstairs most of the time just because my study was there at the end of the hall, and I could listen out for her if she started to fuss.” The man moved inward, his gloved hand upon the railing of the crib that showed a few cracks in the white paint and was obviously a used asset to the room. “This was her crib I kept at the foot of my bed, and I merely moved it in here to be adjacent to your bedroom, which will be across the hall from here.” 

You looked over Eliza’s crib first and foremost, taking in the fact Jacob went through the trouble of, not only buying her a comfortable blanket and brand new bed, but also a teddy bear for her to have if she so desired. Picking up the toy, you looked it over from front to back to see it was new as well and not previously owned. The fur was gentle to the touch, soft and almost close to velvet in texture while the eyes were mere pieces of black marbles sewn into its face. You were relieved they weren’t buttons as Eliza could possibly chew those off as she aged. 

“Forgive me,” spoke Jacob, breaking you from your thoughts though causing your gaze to meet his. “I wasn’t sure what toys she may like, but I did know she was a girl and teddy bears seem to be big next to dolls; however, couldn’t find a doll worthy of a newborn.” 

“You really didn’t have to go through all of this, Sir Frye,” you insisted, bringing the bear to your chest close to Eliza where the infant’s blue eyes turned to it in wonder before her little hands tried to grab upon the nearest arm of the bear. Even Eliza’s own birth father, who knew she was on the way, didn’t care to focus on money providing for his child, but this stranger did. You fought back the tears that pricked at your eyes. 

“It would be unfair to provide for my child and not yours as well,” Jacob insisted kindly as he leaned upon the railing of the crib belonging to his daughter. “I will go and fetch Gabby, bring her up here to be put down for bed, and we can talk better in the kitchen.” 

When the babies were settled down for the evening, you found your way to the kitchen, which was to the right of the front door past the dining area. Jacob had grabbed an apple to offer to you as well as a bottle of wine. You declined the wine given the hour and your condition. “Just water, if you please?” 

“Only water and an apple?” Jacob probed as he left the wine for himself though fetching the water as asked. “We didn’t get a chance to stop for food, (Y/N). At the very least, alcohol would fill you up a bit for the evening.” 

You smiled at his worry but dismissed it with a gentle wave of your hand. “I will be fine. Besides, did they teach you nothing when you asked for a wet nurse?” you asked with a playful smirk, clasping your hands upon the surface of the wooden table. “Best not for me to eat foul things or drink alcohol, else the milk becomes bad for the children. I need to watch my diet, sir, for their sake.” 

“Only things I know about women is God bless the woman who married me, first of all, as she had to take care of two children before her passing, but also—that they get cranky and very hungry at odd hours when pregnant, breasts are sensitive, and they bleed once a month unless they are expecting or ill.” He poured the wine for himself, mindful of the amount and not going past the invisible halfway mark of his glass. “Thus was my other worry of raising a girl on my own. She bleeds, and what indecent things to talk to her father about as us blokes are supposed to ‘ignore’ it whenever a woman is exposed to be in such conditions.” 

You chuckled to yourself, clasping your hands upon the water glass. “I suppose having a twin sister prepared you for much, Sir Frye.” 

His words vibrated upon the rim of his wine glass before he took a sip. “A bit. Evie bled when she was about fifteen or so. I thought she was dying, and I ran her to my father, and he too was at a loss of what to say or do till asking our grandmother. Again, us chaps don’t know much. We’re asked not to unless in the medical field, and I assure you, while aware of certain parts of the body, it’s not as you’d expect,” he chuckled. 

“Nor do us women,” you sighed, shifting in your seat. “Even my own mother could only prepare me for so much in my growing into adulthood.” 

“But you know what society expects of you whereas I am oblivious to that sort of rubbish,” reminded Jacob, grabbing at a few pieces of paper he had nearby and some reading glasses he put into place upon the slope of his nose. “Now then—shall we get down to business?” Taking a few blank pieces of parchment, he pushed them close to you with a pen for some reason you weren’t sure of yet. 

“Speaking of such things, Sir Frye…” You paused, wondering how to put it with you asked to stay and raise Gabriella as your own. Hands to your lap, you began to fidget timidly. “How would…how would you like me to call Gabriella in reference to me and Eliza?” 

Jacob tilted his head slightly to peer over the rim of his glasses, his thumb and index finger rubbing together in idle thought. “Pardon?” 

“Well, do you want her to be raised as me being seen as her nanny or as (Y/N) or her mom…?” You didn’t want to be insensitive to the topic with her mother being alive and well somewhere in this world, but a child would need to know what to call the woman that was nursing her. 

Jacob looked downward with a steady breath as if to consider the thought. “Your name or ‘nanny’ is just fine for now, (Y/N). While the mum won’t be apart of Gabby’s life, I do not wish her to be confused as to who gave birth to her. As for Eliza, I come from a private brotherhood where we refer to one another as brothers and sisters with no blood relation, so I see not the harm of her considering Eliza a sister as long as she understands the two are not related.” 

“What story did you wish of me to tell Gabriella of her mother when she gets older?” you asked curiously, not wanting to say or do anything damning around the child as she grew. 

Jacob lightly waved the thought away as he turned his attention back to the paperwork before him. “Let me worry of that, love. So, it said you could cook.” His hazel eyes found yours upon asking that question as if eager to know the truth. 

“Yes, sir,” you responded as if being interviewed for a position you already had. “Should I have the materials, I can cook whatever it is you wish.” 

“Brilliant,” he murmured, dragging his pen along the paperwork that you couldn’t see as if to make a note of something or mark something out. “When I mentioned that brotherhood earlier, (Y/N)—it has significance. I am afraid there will be days I won’t be here and even mornings and nights I may suddenly vanish without a say to take care of missions asked of me.” Jacob fondled with the pen between his fingers before peering over at you. “Gabby has a habit of waking up at seven in the morning lately, hungry for food. If you’d be so kind as to wake then to tend to her and Eliza, that would be divine. After, at about—.” Jacob paused, his eyes looking you up and down as if curious of something. “Were you going to write this down or mentally memorize it?” 

“Oh!” It was then the paper and pen was making sense, and it was there you hastily took to both and wrote down what was just said. “S-Sorry sir, I am ready now.” 

The chair Jacob sat upon creaked under his weight as he shifted slightly to get comfortable again, his eyes back upon the documents in his grasp. “After, at about eight in the morning, and whether I am here or not, (Y/N), I want you to prepare breakfast.” 

“Do you have any preferences for breakfast food?” you asked, wanting to make sure that the right things were cooked. 

Jacob, again, waved away the thought in a gentle motion as his eyes remained on the paperwork. “Food is food, love, and between you and me, I’ve not had a well cooked meal in sometime now. I will not be fussy.” 

You made a note of the idea he hadn’t had anything cooked in awhile. If that were the case, perhaps he would enjoy bacon, mutton, or beef—the most popular meats of the time. The breakfast and dinners would have to be large; especially, if he wouldn’t be around during part of the days. “Afternoon tea?” 

His hazel eyes shifted to you quickly, brow wrinkled curiously. 

“My late husband fancied afternoon tea like most of his class,” you reminded Jacob, knowing this was a common practice for the upper class people. “Was that something you’d like me to set aside time for?” 

“If I am around, I don’t mind tea in the afternoon, but I do take it more towards the evening,” Jacob admitted. 

“Evenings?” You found that a bit odd. Not many people settled down with an evening of tea. It was usually an afternoon practice of sorts. 

“It calms my nerves should I require sleep that evening,” said Jacob, clearing his throat as if trying not to prove himself guilty of something. 

You wouldn’t argue the thought and made another note on the paper before you. 

“I am sure the babies will tell you when they’re hungry.” Jacob flipped through the papers once more to get to other things he had written down, apparently. “I just know Gabby tends to wake up at seven for some reason.” Dragging his pen down the written comments and questions, he put the papers and writing utensil down on the table before removing his glasses. “As you saw, I have a lavatory here, and I do have a small bin you can fill for the infants. Wash you and your child as you like, but I would prefer to wash Gabby every Sunday by my own hands.” 

Weekly washes weren’t uncommon. It was a practice amongst everyone of a rich society almost and even some dreaded washing as they felt diseases were in the water they bathed in. “You don’t want me to wash her?” you asked just to be sure you heard him right. 

“I don’t get much time with her, and I worry with you here, it’ll be less so as I focus on some important matters to me,” expressed Jacob with an unpleasant sigh at the thought. “Having a moment to bathe her myself would be the one honor and moment I could have with my daughter till she becomes too old for me to do so, if you please, (Y/N).” 

“Of course, sir,” you responded, bowing your head to show your respect to his comment. “You said she has not eaten much since my arrival?” Honestly, you couldn’t help but be concerned for the young one if that were true. 

Jacob’s chest tensed at the memories, folding his hands before him upon the papers he previously was looking over. “She was born three weeks ago, (Y/N). During two of those, the mum took care of her, nursed her, and that was how it was. When I found Gabby at my doorstep, I tried to use a bottle to her, but she fussed and fussed…would not take to it kindly. I tried even different kinds of milk to see if maybe it were the milk not sating her, but again—nothing worked. Even in my desperation, I found the mum and begged her to come to my home and nurse her, but she refused as she desired her work over her own child. My last resort was a wet nurse, and I thank God that it worked. I was worried she was going to die in my arms with how frail she was becoming.” 

“A mere week and you grew so close,” you said in admiration of his actions. “A child born out of wedlock from a whore, and you wanted to do everything for her.” Your eyes drifted downward and away from his as you thought back to your husband. “Eliza’s own father knew she was on the way, but that man died leaving nothing in my possession to care for our baby girl, and he had the riches to do so. Seemed he valued her very little when she was growing within me…” 

“It was easier for me having been a father before, (Y/N),” Jacob expressed in his defense, though his brow wrinkled in dismay at your story. Reaching across the table to touch upon your hand, he squeezed it as if to reassure you. “Take heart that Eliza is in better care now.” 

You mouthed your thanks as the chair Jacob sat within scratched upon the wooden flooring as he departed from where he sat. 

“Now, (Y/N), you’ve seen your room across the hall from the children…I feel it is best we retire for the evening.” Jacob began to loosen his tie, unwinding it from about his neck while he did his best to disguise his yawn in that of a heavy sigh. “Should you require anything from me, my bedroom is just down the hall in the opposite direction.” The man moved then to grab up the oil lamp with a nod out of the kitchen. “I can escort you to your bedroom for the evening.” 

And with that, you took your papers full of notes and went back upstairs to retire for the evening as suggested. 

\--

 

Jacob wasn’t kidding when he said Gabriella woke up at seven in the morning every morning like clockwork. The child very much had her body timed in some odd sense, but that made tending to her easiest if one was to be honest whereas Eliza was more sporadic and would sometimes only nurse closer to eight in the morning as she was too tired to be bothered otherwise. 

Breakfast was easy to make for yourself and for Jacob (when he was around), though sometimes you found yourself having to take the tray to his study as he had work to be done for this brotherhood he spoke of. There would be days and nights he would come home with scratches and bandages over wounds that worried you, but you could only assume it was his duty of being a knight of the queen herself and never bothered to question it. 

Jacob did everything he could to be there for his child, but what surprised you was how he was there for Eliza as well. He was a much lighter sleeper than yourself, and you found him awake late one evening with your own baby in his arms to sooth her in the middle of the night one evening from a nightmare she perchance had. You didn’t want to interrupt the scene, but watching from the doorway you witnessed as he cradled Eliza, rocked her tenderly with the stuffed bear in his possession to assure her that was why he bought such a toy…he bought it to chase off her nightmares. 

Eliza was far too young to understand any of it, but the sight of the bear and the warmth of Jacob’s embrace did the trick in lulling her back to sleep. In the darkness of the night, a room lit only by the moon that evening, you saw him kiss her upon her forehead before lying her back to rest as though she were his own. The sight made your heart quicken in a mixture of emotions before taking your leave of the doorway and hurrying to your own bedroom… 

Again, a stranger who only knew Eliza for a month now was willing to treat her as his own whereas her own father wouldn’t lay down the coin for her to have a decent life. In the privacy of your room, your back to the closed door, you wept quietly as you slowly descended to the floor with your knees bent towards your chest and hands to your face to quiet your actions. Yes, you were happy, but you were also distraught…mad at your parents for betrothing you to a man who had such little value for you and your unborn child. 

With the children in bed one evening, you found yourself cooking mutton, a good bit of rice and mushrooms with some bacon with tea before heading to Jacob’s study as you knew he was possibly going to have another long evening with whatever it was he was researching. 

“Man needs to eat,” you said to yourself, not wishing him to go another night refusing the thought as he was too invested in his work. Making it to the door, you knocked in hopes for a response. “Sir Frye?” you called quietly, not wishing to disturb the children even if they were above you. 

“Enter,” commented Jacob, his voice labored and muffled from the other side of the woodwork. 

Opening the door, you came into the spacious study area that was lit with interesting candle holders that cascaded a rather ornate design upon the walls, books, and even Jacob himself as he sat at his desk trying to figure something out of importance. Closing the old leather bound book, he sighed at his lack of findings and set it off to the side. “Brought me dinner, have you?” the man asked curiously, hands folded before the desk lined with paperwork he had been feverishly working upon through the hours. Jacob attempted to smile, wanting to push his disappointment off at bay when it dealt with his findings. 

You smiled, glad he wasn’t disenchanted in your actions as you urged the food towards him before drawing attention to the tea and sugar nearby. “I thought it may interest you, sir.” Your fingers graced the fine rim of the teacup. “Also, I brought the tea in order to calm your racing thoughts.” 

Jacob scoffed playfully at the notion, taking to the spoon in the sugar jar to work on sweetening the drink to his liking. “You are trying to distract me from my work, it seems.” 

You knew he was being facetious, so again, you grinned while standing to attention before his desk. “Is it working? You work far too hard, Sir Frye. I just…I worry for you, to be honest.” Your fingers interlaced before you and you squeezed your hands in worry of his reaction to your honesty. He was a good and honest man and was doing everything in his power to be sure you and your infant were well tended to. 

He hadn’t bothered to look at you as he took too much attention to bettering his tea and food with the salt and pepper you brought as well. “Do you? To be honest, (Y/N), there is no reason to worry of me. Do that and you will be worrying yourself to illness.” 

He was teasing again, but you couldn’t help but worry of some hidden truth in that statement. “Gabriella needs you, Sir Frye…” 

Hearing you say such a thing caused him to peer over the rim of his teacup rather quickly as though you barked some sort of command at him. Jacob pulled the rim away from his lips and it was there you could see some sort of frown upon his features. 

“And let me be honest,” you began again with a titter of a laugh, hands moved behind you as to show your bashfulness, “Eliza has become quite close to you as well...in-in terms of being a father and all.” 

Jacob blinked rapidly at that statement as if to mutely deny it. “Mm,” he hummed, putting the teacup down upon the decorative dish it was served on. “She is your child, (Y/N). As charming of a baby as she is, I know she is not mine.” 

“Sir Frye…” you bit at your lower lip that trembled with wonder of how to phrase this comment. “I-I know she’s not, and I know you do not care much for me but—.” 

“Who said I didn’t?” Jacob interrupted, recoiling in near disgust at the assumption. 

You raised your hand to halt his words boldly, even if he was your employer. “—please, sir,” you continued, “I am begging you with this…Eliza needs a father of some sort to love and cherish her as she grows older, and I know not of anybody more capable than you.” You moved your hand then across the table, grabbing at it in desperation with a heavy breath and a rapidly beating heart. “You are a charming, loving…sweet and amazing man…I just… want that in her life—!” 

Jacob shushed you again and again to calm your sudden eagerness to have him say ‘yes’ in this, and in his desire to do so, he had found his lips upon the corner of your mouth. 

Your lips partially agape, you struggled to speak for a moment at the tender affection you had gone years without. “I am unworthy of your kisses, Sir Frye,” you whispered dejectedly, voice trembling in submission to the thought. “My own husband dared not to kiss me or care for me.” Closing your eyes to dull out the pain, you swallowed to moisten the harsh dryness in your throat. 

“Then your husband was a bloody fool,” Jacob lightly growled in your defense, his hand moving from your chin to your cheek and urging you back into another passionate kiss as he begged for more. 

His breath was warm, fueling the rapid beating of your heart as you tasted the tea upon his breath and lingering within his saliva as he pressed his tongue urgently upon your lower lip to beg for entrance in desire to kiss you in a way you had never experienced. Your trembling lips parted at his demand, submitting to that desire, you felt his hand upon the side of your neck where he eagerly sampled you till you felt yourself too drunk on the mere closeness of him to even fight. Upon Jacob pulling back just inches from your lips, you both looked each other in the eyes as if confused of where to go from there. 

“Your food will get cold,” you felt the need to remind him, not wishing it to spoil. 

Jacob’s laugh was quiet as his hand upon your neck drifted downward to your chest, his palm and fingers sliding over towards where the fabric was concealing you to work on coaxing you out of your gown. “Indeed, but I fancy eating something else.” 

The mere roughness of his palm and the lewdness of his voice made you quiver and your thighs tensed on reflex at the thought. However, the desk was in your way, and it was in that moment Jacob made note of it as he took your hand and escorted you around it and towards his lap. “You want me to sit in your lap?” you asked, as you weren’t sure what his intentions were. 

“I can handle you, love,” Jacob assured you, letting you rest upon his firm legs before he began to undo the upper part of your clothing to expose your breast. He was mindful, knowing they were tender, but that didn’t stop him from lightly squeezing upon the one he had removed from your uniform making you cringe in a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“P-Please, Sir Frye,” you pleaded with a blush of embarrassment as a small bit of milk dribbled from your nipple, “be gentle there at least…!” 

The flat of his tongue slowly teased upon your exposed nipple, making you arch into the act with a cry of excitement. Mixture of his warm breath and cool saliva taking care of the milk, Jacob grinned mischievously at you. “I plan on it, my dear.” 

A blush of embarrassment was still evident upon your cheeks, only reddening in color when Jacob took back upon your breast to suckle upon you harshly in a desire to urge the milk from you and make you cry out blissfully as you cradled the back of his head like a nursing child. The bristles of his beard toyed with your chest and led your fingers to gently massage the back of his head to urge him onward. “Oh God, Sir Frye…!” you whimpered, absentmindedly rubbing your body against his in an eagerness for more. In the heat of his actions, you could feel your thighs tremble for a want to be spread and a want for him to take hold of your body and claim it. Perhaps it was in your grinding upon him or the fact your fingers curled upon the back of his head in a mute eagerness for more that he finally pulled from your nipple to take it into consideration; honestly, you couldn’t say. 

Breaking the string of saliva from your breast, Jacob rolled his tongue across his lips as if to sample the sweet milk from you a bit longer before being gentlemanly and dabbing it away with his fingertips. Here, he motioned to his desk. “Hands on the desk while standing up,” he seemed to command, taking his gloves off. 

“P-Pardon me, Sir Frye?” you asked, removing yourself from his lap though doing your best to cover yourself and not be indecent. 

“I am still your employer, am I not?” Jacob asked with a cheeky grin adding more wrinkles upon the outer area of his lips. “Do as I ask, please, (Y/N).” 

It was very much a command of sorts, but in the request, you were quick to be sure all items were urged out of the way as Jacob began to loosen your corset and escort your clothing to the floor in time with only the darkness to clothe you. With you facing towards the door and your hands on the desk, you could easily hear Jacob removing his pants at least as the belts jingled about in warning of their removal. 

You expected he would just enter inside of you, and to be honest, you were prepared for that act should he dare. However, you felt the chill of his fingers against the moistened pedals of your entrance as he gently caressed them as if petting upon your head. Your teeth raking across your lower lip, you tried to push downward in a desire to have him push them inside of you. 

“Stop that, (Y/N),” Jacob ordered with a light chuckle barricaded behind his words. “I want to explore you as I fancy to. You can wait a moment.” 

“Y-Yes, sir…!” you panted, resting on your palms to try and resist the temptation of just bucking upon him as he continued to toy with the lips of your entrance and even had the nerve to press his index finger upon your swollen clit. The swelling excitement in your stomach merely worsened and your womanhood dampened all the more to where the lubrication traveled down your inner thigh. “S-Sir Frye…you’re going to drive me mad!” 

He kissed you upon the middle of your back, his hands moving then to your ass where he squeezed you there reassuringly. “That’s the point, love.” Jacob’s hands then hooked upon the bend in your legs, and without warning, he urged you back upon his swollen cock. 

Eyes widened, you cried out rather loudly at feeling his engorged length inside of you. The lubrication made it easier to handle his girth, but you still found yourself nearly falling forward upon each eager thrust he placed upon you. With how much force he put upon you, your hands found their way to the opposite rim of the desk to stay stationed. 

“S-Sir F-Frye…!” you stammered, trying to prevent yourself from saying his first name just to make it quicker. It was hard to focus. His thighs slapping upon yours in quick recession, his hand soon upon your throat to keep you upward and not fall upon his desk, you gasped hotly at the feel of him squeeze you there before his breathing made it close to your ear. 

His panting was deep, eager and with the sensation of it so close to your senses, it nearly made you orgasm right away. Jacob’s hands were soon upon yours, his chest pressing upon your back as he had buried himself all the way inside of you with a cringe of delight. His fingers intertwined within yours he held your hands from the back. Your thighs were a bit bruised from them hitting upon the rim of his desk, but you paid that little mind given the circumstances. With his face so close to yours, you tried to turn to kiss upon him, but he playfully avoided your advances though departed with a tender kiss there on your forehead, dewed in sweat. 

“Hold real still while I cum,” he whispered, the words tickling your ear once more and even lasting an impression upon your cheek in their warmth. 

Jacob pulled back gradually only to thrust back in again, and a rather loud cry of excitement departed from him as you felt his erection tense within your tight body, marking you with his seed in several bursts. 

It was a warm rush spreading from within you and causing the swelling of delight in your stomach to burst as your own climax was urged from the release of your employer. “Oh, God…! Oh God!” you cried out again and again, missing the feeling of someone actively making love to you and not just ‘fucking you’ for a needed release or a desire to have you birth a child. 

Your walls closing down upon him, Jacob kissed the side of your head time and time again with his thumbs stroking your own from where he held you in place. His heavy breathing transitioned through his mouth to his nostrils as he worked on calming himself. “Did you cum, (Y/N)?” Jacob asked, the fit too tight for him to truly tell. 

Your chest lowered downward to the desk, hoping to find some sort of relaxation there from the sexual high he had incurred upon you. “I-I did, Sir Frye…” 

Jacob chuckled, moving one hand to your cheek to stroke you there in a loving manner. “You can call me ‘Jacob’, if it pleases you, love.”


End file.
